


With you (I'm in love it's true)

by targaryen_melodrama



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff no plot really, M/M, back on my ficlet bullshit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 00:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16776079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/targaryen_melodrama/pseuds/targaryen_melodrama
Summary: Sam heads to the living room and is again startled by how easy, how familiar all of this is.Goddamn, I could really get used to this.





	With you (I'm in love it's true)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my favourite beta. I hope you never run out of ways to yell in your comments.

“You know, I could get used to this.”

“Sitting your pretty ass on the counter and not helping with anything?”

Sam picks up a cucumber slice and throws it at Bucky’s head. “You said not to touch anything, asshole. No—don’t— _eww_ , fuck’s sake, Barnes,” Sam says when Bucky picks up the cucumber slice from the floor and eats it.

Much as he’s disgusted by Bucky’s antics, Sam’s glad they happened: it means he doesn’t have to actually say that when he’d said ‘I could get used to this’, he meant something else. He meant a lot of things.

Sam meant that he could get used to watching Bucky move in the kitchen, calm and confident like few people are allowed to see. He could get used to the divine smell of Bucky’s cooking, to the anticipation of whatever dessert he’d picked up from the bakery across the street. Sam could get used to coming home to Bucky. He could get used to Bucky’s apartment feeling like home.

“You sure there’s nothing I can do?” he says, hopping down from the counter. Sam _would_ be very happy to sit there doing nothing, but his mom raised him better than that, and he’s starting to feel a little uncomfortable.

“Hmm...yeah, actually.” Bucky cocks his head for a second in a way that Sam will never tell him is adorable, then goes back to stirring. “Take care of drinks, come taste this for me, and...put on some music maybe?”

“Sure. Beer or wine today, baby?”

“Wine—hey, why don’t you open that bottle of red Nat bought for my birthday?”

“Oooh, we’re being fancy tonight.”

“Of course you’d call spaghetti and meatballs fancy, Wilson.”

“With you cooking it?” Sam says, dropping a kiss on Bucky’s cheek. “It _is_ fancy. You know you’re a great cook.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbles, but Sam notices that his cheeks redder than they were a second ago.

Sam heads to the living room to grab the bottle from Bucky’s mini bar and is again startled by how easy, how familiar all of this is.

 _Goddamn, I could really get used to this_.

Back in the kitchen, Sam finds a little bowl full of sauce cooling off on the counter, right where he was sitting a minute ago.

“For me?”

“Uh huh. Tell me if anything’s missing.”

Sam blows lightly, has a taste of the sauce and— _God_.

“This is fucking incredible, Buck. Seriously.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect, don’t add anything.”

“Cool. Should be ready in five, then. Music, please?”

“On it.” Sam doesn’t even need to scroll long before he finds what he’s looking for, and soon enough, Mariah Carey’s voice is filling the kitchen, and Sam hops back on the counter.

Sam doesn’t mean to say it in that momebt, but when Bucky tries his hand at Mariah’s falsetto, and obviously completely fails, it just...slips out.

“Fuck, I love you.”

It isn’t the first time they’ve said it to each other, but for some reason it makes the both of them freeze for a second. Bucky exhales, soft and quiet, and Sam thinks he might’ve done something wrong, though he has no clue what.

“Buck?”

Bucky just pushes the pot so that it rests on the cold part of the stove, puts down the wooden spoon he’d been stirring with and turns to Sam, leaning on the counter next to the stove.

“I...you just.” Bucky shakes his head and smiles a little, but Sam is still confused. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“What?” Sam, a little incredulous, actually looks around the apartment for a second at the warm, at the evidence of the comfortable, beautiful life his boyfriend had built for himself and had started sharing with Sam.

“I’m just—” Bucky shakes his head again, but heads towards Sam. When he gets to him, he settles both of his hands on Sam’s thighs, stroking lightly. “This is nothing, sweetheart. I would cook for you everyday if I could. I _want_ to take care of you. I want you to be fed and safe and warm and loved.” Bucky moves his right hand up and cups Sam’s jaw. “This is nothing, and sometimes it catches me off guard when you say you love me like that. I’m just doing my best to love you right.”

It’s Sam’s turn to shake his head. He’d complain about how oblivious Bucky’s being, but they’re having a moment. There’ll be time for banter later.

“It’s not nothing,” he says, bending down to peck Bucky’s lips. “It’s care, and effort, and love and all of that takes a lot of work. I can’t do anything about it catching you off guard, but telling you I love you—loving you _period_ —is the least I could do. And you make it real easy, baby. You make loving you really easy.”

It seems like they both decide they’ve reached their feelings quota for the day at the same time, so they stop talking and start kissing instead, soft and slow. With the music in the back, Bucky’s lips soft and his hands gently cradling Sam’s face, it reminds Sam of the first time they kissed.

Bucky breaks the kiss with a little laugh that goes straight to Sam’s heart, and damn—if every fall evening was being taken care of by the silly, generous, beautiful man he loved, then yeah. Yeah.

 _I could really get used to this_.

  
  
**End**.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this my first domestic fic? I think it is!! 
> 
> Title of the fic from With you, by Mariah Carey. 
> 
> I am on [Tumblr](http://targaryenmelodrama.tumblr.com) if you wanna drop by!


End file.
